My Own Words

by Ruth Bader Ginsburg

Our mutual respect is only momentarily touched, in most instances, by our sometimes strong disagreement on what the law is. The institution we serve is ever so much more important than the particular individuals who compose the Court’s bench at any given time.

The last state to rid its laws of a miscegenation ban was Alabama, in 2000.

Like Mildred Loving, I have lived long enough to see big changes. Who would believe, for example, in the 1950s when Justice O’Connor and I graduated from law school, that two women no law firm would hire simply because we were women, would one day be seated on the highest Court in the land? Or that the president of the United States would be an African-American, himself the child of an interracial marriage? Yes, we still have a way to go to ensure that all people in our land enjoy the equal protection of the laws, but considering how far we have come there is good cause for optimism about our country’s future.

Medicaid is a single program with but one constant aim—to enable poor persons to receive basic health care when they need it.

AT EIGHTY-THREE, Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg is still going strong. She works out twice a week in the Supreme Court gym. She watches the evening news on TV while on the elliptical glider. Under the guidance of her longtime trainer, she lifts weights and does 20 push-ups—with a short stretch in the middle to catch her breath. This is down from the 30 push-ups she did a few years ago—but more than most of us do at half her age, if ever. She has twice conquered cancer, in 1999 and 2009, and never missed a day on the bench. On Sunday, June 27, 2010, she lost her life partner of fifty-six years—and carried on. The day after Martin Ginsburg’s death, the last day of the Supreme Court’s Term, she appeared with her fellow Justices and announced one of the Court’s decisions from the bench. Marty, she said, would have wanted it that way.